


A Fever, a Hug, and a Kiss

by HopeHazard



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Sick Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-09-23
Packaged: 2017-11-14 21:27:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeHazard/pseuds/HopeHazard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is sick, John takes care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fever, a Hug, and a Kiss

John jumped as two arms snaked around his waist, causing him to nearly drop the pot of tea he had been holding. Dark hair brushed just under his chin as Sherlock nuzzled his face in the area between John’s shoulder and neck.

“Sherlock,” John sighed, “I told you to stay in bed. Why are you up?” 

“Boring in there without you,” came the muffled reply. 

John chuckled. “And you couldn’t wait five minutes for me to make tea and come back?” He tried unsuccessfully to maneuver out of Sherlock’s grasp and frowned. “If you don’t let go of me, then we’ll both get sick.”

“Good,” Sherlock said hoarsely. 

“Yes, but then who’d take care of you?” Sherlock grumbled something, and let go of John, taking a few steps back before coughing into his elbow. With a gentle hand pressed into Sherlock’s back, John guided him back into his bedroom and onto the bed. He left and returned a couple seconds later with a mug of tea. As Sherlock took a tentative sip, John retrieved the thermometer and stuck it in Sherlock’s ear. 

“You still have a fever.”

“Brilliant deduction, doctor.”

John laughed. “Don’t be mad at me just because you didn’t listen when I said not to go running about in the rain. It’s your own fault you caught a cold. Maybe next time you’ll listen to the trained medical professional.” Sherlock pouted and continued sipping at his tea. 

John phone beeped, and when he pulled it out he sighed. His eyebrows creased together for a brief moment as he read the text, then he gave Sherlock a fake smile as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. “I’m just going to grab some medicine for y—”

“Who was it?” Sherlock interrupted. 

“Hmm?”

“Your phone. The text. It worried you. Who was it?” John shook his head.

“Oh, nothing. No big deal.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Obviously it is a big deal, otherwise you wouldn’t have made the expression you did.”

John let out a nervous laugh. He seriously hated how observant Sherlock was sometimes. “Honestly, don’t worry about it.”

“John.” Against his better judgment, John met Sherlock’s eyes. Bad decision. His eyes were intense and demanding. John let out a long breath before sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“It was Sarah, from the hospital. I was supposed to go in today, but obviously with you sick I had to stay here. She was… scolding me. She said if it happens one more time, she’s firing me.” John looked down into his lap, and for a minute, neither of them said anything.

Finally, Sherlock broke the stillness. “Thank you.” John was shocked by the quiet expression of gratitude, and when he looked back up at Sherlock he was even more surprised to see that the detective’s cheeks were flushed pink. Something told John it wasn’t the fever. 

He stood up and put a hand on Sherlock’s head, ruffling his hair slightly. “It’s no problem. Someone’s got to take care of you, otherwise who knows how sick you’d get.” Then he leaned down, quickly placing his lips against Sherlock’s forehead. “Let me go get that medicine.”

Sherlock waited until he was sure John wouldn’t be able to see him, and he slowly lifted his hand to where John had kissed him, allowing a small smile to spread over his face.


End file.
